The First Mission

The ancient service tunnel stretched endlessly upward, a vertical shaft carved through miles of Earth's crust. Commander Darian, a peak-tier Adept, gripped the corroded ladder, leading his ten-person squad on their gruelling ascent from the safety of their houses. The cold metal rungs bit into their gloved hands, each step bringing them closer to the "hell" a realm few dared to tread.

The air was stale, heavy with an icy chill that seeped into their armour. Each exhale formed wisps of mist, fleeting ghosts in the tunnel's oppressive darkness. Encased in triple-layered protective suits, the squad moved with practised precision. Their boots pressed steadily into the frost-laden rungs, each movement deliberate and silent. The black void around them was impenetrable to untrained eyes, but their evolved vision rendered it meaningless. To them, the dark was no obstacle.

A cold, mechanical voice echoed within their minds,

"Current elevation: 13,000 meters. The remaining distance to Station 1 is 10,000 meters. Radiation levels increasing."

Hugo, Drake, and Milo climbed with steady precision, their movements reflecting years of training honed by their family traditions. While the clan provided equal resources to all its members, families like theirs passed down unique techniques and skills, giving them an unspoken advantage. The trio moved as a cohesive unit, their rhythm natural and seamless.

Milo ascended with practiced grace, her every step deliberate. Drake climbed just behind her, his movements confident and fluid. Their bond was evident in the way they moved together—they had been engaged since childhood, their union cementing the strength of two prominent families within the clan. Hugo followed close behind, his sharp eyes scanning the oppressive darkness above and below them, his vigilance unbroken even after hours of climbing.

Trailing behind them was Alex, struggling against the relentless demands of the ascent. He had no family, no legacy to guide him, and no additional techniques passed down to give him an edge. For him, this climb was a cruel test, one he doubted he was ready for.

The cold metal rungs bit into his gloved hands. His muscles ached, his breath came in shallow, pained bursts, and his mind swirled with doubts. Why was I even sent on this mission? he wondered, bitterness creeping into his thoughts. Am I just another body for their statistics?

Unlike the others, Alex's mind wasn't focused on the goal ahead; it was consumed by the possibilities of failure. Every creak of the ladder, every shift in the shadows above, felt like a threat. His overly cautious nature slowed him down as he constantly scanned for dangers that weren't there, his grip tightening on the rungs as if letting go for even a second would send him plunging into the abyss.

Hugo glanced down briefly, his expression unreadable. Alex looked away, pretending not to notice. The last thing he needed was their judgment.

"Dead weight," Drake muttered, loud enough for Milo to hear.

"Quiet, Drake," Milo snapped, her tone sharp but measured. There was an authority in her voice that silenced further commentary. Though she said nothing more, Alex couldn't help but feel the sting of the words.

He bit the inside of his cheek, resentment simmering beneath his exhaustion. Dead weight, huh? Maybe I am but I'm not dying for any of you. His mind raced with excuses and escape plans should things go wrong.

The ladder creaked as he shifted his grip, his thoughts spiraling further. What if the rungs give out? What if there's an ambush waiting at the surface? His overly cautious nature wasn't just about fear; it was a survival mechanism. Alex had lived his entire life avoiding risks, calculating every move to ensure he'd see another day.

Above him, the trio climbed steadily, their movements synchronized and sure. Alex envied their confidence but mistrusted it all the same. Overconfidence gets you killed, he thought bitterly, his eyes flicking to Hugo's back as if expecting him to slip.

Above them, Commander Darian's voice broke the ambient stillness, echoing off the ancient metal walls. "Keep the pace steady. We've still got a long way to go." His tone was calm and steady, a lifeline of certainty in the unrelenting climb.

Jonah and Joan climbed alongside their fellow squad members, their thoughts connecting through a private neural channel separate from the team's main link.

"Which of our sacrificial lambs will survive?" Jonah's thoughts carried a grim familiarity. As a mid-tier Adept, he'd survived this same climb years ago and watched others fail where he'd succeeded.

Joan's mental response was tinged with dark amusement, her enhanced agility making each movement fluid even after hours of climbing. "Four fresh Initiates. Commander Darian always draws interesting assignments. And I think Hugo, Milo, and Drake have higher chances of survival. They've been groomed for this. Their movements are more disciplined."

Both Adepts knew their true purpose here. Along with Commander Darian, Eva, Felix and John, they were executioners and witnesses.

Every three years, their clan tested its young this way, pushing low-tier Initiates to their absolute limits. Only at the threshold of death might their unique genetics awaken.

"Look at the one called Alex," Joan observed. "His enhancement's already showing strain."

"Like watching reflections of our trial," Jonah replied. "Remember how many died in our batch?"

The four junior members climbing with them had no idea their every movement was being assessed, every struggle noted. Their parents had sent them knowingly, as all parents did. In a clan of barely fifty thousand, weakness couldn't be tolerated. Hundreds died in each testing cycle, their bodies adding to the legacy of failed evolution.

The Adepts continued their climb in grim silence, each remembering their own desperate ascent years ago. They had evolved. They had survived. Now they would witness whether these four would do the same, or join the countless others whose bodies had never returned from the climb.

But Alex climbed, not out of bravery or a sense of duty, but because he had no choice. Survival was all that mattered, and every rung he ascended brought him closer to it or so he hoped.

His doubts gnawed at him . What lay ahead was a question that plagued him more than the climb itself. Will I make it? He clenched his jaw and pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the next rung.

He wasn't a hero, and he didn't pretend to be. Let the others carry the weight of expectation and glory. He would do what he always did stay cautious, stay selfish, and stay alive.

As he ascended, his thoughts wandered, pulling him back to memories of late his grandfather's stories and tales of the old.

"He recalled ancient tales of the "humans" who thrived a million years before. They were said to have achieved extraordinary heights in intelligence and technology, advancing their science and technology to reach what they proudly termed a Type 1 Civilization, a level of power and influence capable of harnessing the full energy of their planetary system.

However, their rapid ascent was not without consequences. Limited resources, greed, and internal strife sparked conflicts among their factions, which escalated into a ceaseless war. Humanity expanded beyond Earth, colonising their solar system, but the relentless devastation of war overshadowed their achievements. Over centuries, the scale of destruction grew unimaginable. Weaponry evolved into nightmarish instruments of annihilation, and small to mid-tier factions were obliterated as casualties mounted.

By the thousandth year of the war, humanity had turned on itself with terrifying force. The surviving major factions faced mutual destruction. In their desperation, they unleashed a weapon more devastating than any before , a creation of unimaginable power. This weapon's impact was catastrophic, setting off a cascade of low-frequency radiation that poisoned their world slowly and their bodies.

Some sought refuge in space, fleeing the decaying Earth in hastily constructed spacecraft. Others retreated into vast underground bunkers, hoping to outlast the apocalyptic fallout. Yet, neither group found salvation. Those who ventured into space were limited by primitive technology and scarce resources, only able to travel a few light-years before returning, defeated and desperate. Upon their return, they found a world transformed Earth had entered a stage of metamorphosis. The ecosystem was entirely unrecognisable, and the planet teemed with unseen dangers. The returning refugees succumbed to the mutated environment almost immediately.

Meanwhile, the survivors in underground bunkers were no better off. Over generations, they suffered the slow decay of their humanity, their bodies and minds warped by the contaminated environment. Struggling against extinction, these remnants of humanity adapted. They learned to harness the very plague that threatened their survival, gradually using it to their advantage. From this crucible of despair, a second rise to power began.

But this new era brought its challenges. Evolution, now unchecked by natural boundaries, began to diverge in strange and unpredictable ways. Some survivors developed superhuman abilities, becoming the progenitors of a new breed of humanity. Among them, rogue scientists emerged, experimenting in their quest for chaos and perfection. They engineered entirely new races beings reminiscent of the mythical elves, dwarves, demons, ogres and many more from ancient human folklore.

As these creations multiplied, the world spiralled further into chaos. Monstrosities born of unchecked evolution roamed the contaminated oceans, skies, and land. The fragile remnants of civilisation splintered once again, plunging the planet into an era dominated by the survival of the fittest.

For a million years, evolution continued unabated, shaping Earth and its inhabitants into forms both wondrous and terrifying. What remained of humanity endured amidst this chaos, forging a precarious existence in a world that bore little resemblance to the one their ancestors once ruled."

The group to which Alex belonged was no ordinary collection of survivors. They were termed "Alpha Humans", a race born from the vision of a long-forgotten ancestor, one of the infamous "mad scientists" of humanity's darkest era. Yet, unlike his peers who sought chaos, Alex's ancestor carried a sliver of moral purpose. His goal was not destruction but salvation to engineer the perfect human beings capable of surviving the terrors of a ruined world and countering its growing threats.

From this vision, the Alpha Humans emerged a unique lineage of unparalleled intellect and resilience. Their minds were their greatest weapon, evolved to resist all external manipulation. No form of coercion, mind control, or psychic assault could breach their mental defences. This gift made them invaluable, but it also made them feared and hated by others.

Yet, this perfection came with severe limitations. Their bodies were frail compared to their minds, and their ability to reproduce was greatly diminished. To overcome this physical weakness, their creator devised a solution a liquid-metal enhancement. This revolutionary substance was injected into them at the fetal stage, bonding with their bodies on a molecular level. Over time, it became inseparable from their very being.

The liquid metal enhanced their physiques, granting them strength, endurance, and agility that rivalled the fiercest adversaries. As the Alpha Humans grew, the substance evolved alongside them, adapting to their unique genetic makeup. This bond between body and device became a defining trait, making each Alpha Human a singular creation. Their individuality was reflected not just in their minds but in the way the liquid metal responded to their growth and needs, enhancing them in ways tailored to their specific abilities.

But their extraordinary nature came at a cost. Others feared what they could not control. The Alpha Humans, despite their potential, they were persecuted for their differences. Their enhanced minds, tailored genetics, and symbiotic augmentations made them outcasts a target for envy, fear, and hatred.

That's why when others dwelled on the surface world they lived underground, buried beneath miles of thick permafrost in a barren wasteland. Above them reigned the deadliest and most fearsome creatures known as Peak Level Calamity Beasts. These monstrous apex predators dominated the northern regions often termed "breeding grounds" with unmatched power, transforming the land into an uninhabitable death trap.

Yet, the presence of these beasts was both a blessing and a curse for them. On one hand, no one dared venture into this forsaken wasteland teeming with such catastrophic creatures. The beasts provided a natural barrier, shielding them from the rest of the world and ensuring their sanctuary remained undisturbed. Their persecutors, fearing the Calamity Beasts, stayed far away, leaving the underground dwellers in relative peace.

But this blessing came at a steep price. Living beneath the shadow of these titanic predators was a constant threat. The Alpha Humans had to tread carefully, for even the faintest hint of their presence could draw the beasts' attention. To survive, they were forced to move their headquarters periodically, abandoning carefully built sanctuaries and starting anew elsewhere. The looming possibility of annihilation kept them in a perpetual state of vigilance, never allowing them to settle or feel truly secure.